to be fair. She wasn’t above capitalizing on his situation, but she was going to do what was right now that she had.
“But I’m going to work your ass off.”
“I think we might have to get some of this in writing.”
“I have stuff in writing with your grandfather and it didn’t save me from you.”
She smirked at him and reached for the bottle. “I need instructions.”
“Try not to get mobbed.”
“Thanks.” He handed her a bottle, and Taylor eased in through the gate, locking it behind her with one hand. The killer heifer barely acknowledged her presence, but the calves, which were nosing through the hay, recognized the bottle. She straddled the first one as Cole instructed, then held up its chin from behind, and it immediately latched on to the nipple. As promised, milk rolled down her hand and arm as the calf slurped, but the gross factor was counterbalanced by the cute factor.
“This isn’t bad,” she said, glancing up at Cole.
“Just time-consuming.”
“And a little sticky.”
After they were all fed, Taylor was ready for a second shower. She had milk replacer up to her armpits and cow poop on her shoes due to a misstep. “I want to negotiate for use of your washing machine.”
He gave her a pained look that had nothing to do with his injuries.
“It isn’t like I’ll use it and forget to leave the house.” Although she wouldn’t mind doing that. The wind had blown the previous evening, and the bunkhouse was drafty.
“Let’s get that in writing, too.”
If it wasn’t for the grimace on his face, she would have thought he was playing with her. But he was grimacing. And hurting.
“Are you going to see someone about your wrist?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me drive you.”
The “all right” didn’t come easily, but Cole got it out and Taylor said, “I need to change again and wash up, then I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Probably the sooner the better. There might be a crowd, and I don’t want to kill the whole day.”
“Yes. Because you can do so much in the shape you’re in.”
“I have someone to do my stuff for me now.”
She sneered at him because he seemed to expect it. “Are you going to change?” Not that he didn’t look good rumpled.
“I think the medical personnel will understand why I don’t.”
As did she. “Just making sure you don’t need help before we go,” she said, hoping against hope that he didn’t call her bluff. Because she would help him…but that might not be the wisest move on her part. Interesting, yes. Wise? No.
“And baiting me in the process?”
“A little. Habit.” She smiled tightly. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
* * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES BECAME twenty, but since Cole expected to wait at least half an hour, he was impressed. It wasn’t that he thought that Taylor was going to waste time primping, but he figured it would take her a while to clean her shoes. Instead, she left her running shoes outside and wore ballet flats with jeans that hugged her legs in a way that made him want to peel them off. And he didn’t feel bad about that, because it was more of a reaction than a plan. She looked good in her jeans, and he was a guy. One who hadn’t peeled off anyone’s jeans in quite a while. Obviously, he wouldn’t be peeling these jeans, but he could think about it in a hypothetical way.
They took Taylor’s SUV, and once Cole was signed in to the urgent care facility, she left him and went grocery shopping. He had her cell number, but from the looks of the crowded waiting room, he didn’t think he’d need it. Two and a half hours, several X-rays, a knee brace and a wrist splint later, he was good to go. The only thing he’d been spared was an MRI, but only because he had to travel to get it done.
Taylor was waiting in the outer office when he came out of the treatment area, staring down at her lap. When he limped closer, she looked up at him, her expression instantly blanked out. The force field was in place. Something was wrong.
Why?
She got to her feet, shouldering her purse in one smooth move. “All wrapped up and ready to go, I see.” Oh, yeah. Brisk voice, no-nonsense manner. Something had happened. But he played along.
He held up his wrist. “Sprained, not broken.” Although sprains could take as long to heal as breaks, he was relieved not to have a cast knocking around.
“The knee?”
“I’m not getting an expensive test to tell me what I already know. It’s also sprained.”
“They can’t do something for that?”
“Not a hell of a lot. I have to live with it.” Just as he had before.
They drove most of the way home in silence, but not the same kind of silence that had settled between them on the trip to urgent care. This was a brittle silence, one that begged to be broken.
Taylor turned onto the county road leading to the farm, and Cole decided enough was enough. He shifted in his seat and was about to ask what the deal was when Taylor spoke.
“I didn’t get the job.”
Well, that sucked. Cole stared at her profile, wondering what the hell had gone wrong. She’d been confident about the second interview. “Did they give a reason?”
She shook her head. “Nothing beyond the usual being-very-sorry kind of thing.”
“That bites.” She was never leaving the farm.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “The search continues.” She cleared her throat. “I hate telling Grandpa.”
“Don’t.”
“That got me into trouble last time.” She glanced at him. “You had something to say on the matter, if I recall.”
Yeah, he did, but he hadn’t thought about the reason she hadn’t called Karl. “You didn’t call him because you were embarrassed? About losing your job, I mean.”
“I’d never failed so massively before.”
“Did you fail? Like…do something wrong that got you fired?” Because he was curious if he’d gotten the entire story.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she snapped. “Other than putting in more hours than most people on staff. But it still felt like failure.” The corner of her mouth turned down. “No…actually, it felt like getting screwed—and not the good kind.”
She
